Help When You Need It
by KDSanders
Summary: Anna and Greg are trying to give their children a happy life. What happens when tragedy strikes this family again and Anna is force to ask for help from an old friend, Dr. Spencer Reid? CSI Criminal Minds crossover. Rated for violence. Ch 10 up. Complete!
1. A Tough Case

(A/N: Ok, so Spike TV had a CSI marathon. That made me want to go back and read my Anna/Greg fics, which made me want to write a new one. I realize that new episodes have shot a lot of my story out of the water (mainly details about Greg's family) but dealing with an original character, this was already an AU (alternate universe) fic. Thus, it is not 100 cannon compliant. I will continue to keep certain details cannon, but the great thing about these stories is that they can stand on their own without the show. Anyway…this story is a bit of a time jump from the last, but it should be easy to follow. Also…this is a crossover fic. This will be a cross of CSI and Criminal Minds. You'll see where that fits. Anyway…without further ado, let's get to it.)

**Chapter 1: A Tough Case**

My heart was in my throat as I approached the scene. Grissom was kneeling beside a small figure wrapped in a pink blanket.

"It's her isn't it?" I asked as Grissom pulled the blanket away from the child's face.

Grissom nodded sadly. "Madeline Lowery."

I fought back tears as I placed my kit beside her.

Grissom looked at me sympathetically. "Read the scene," he said bringing me back to the job at hand. "What does it tell us?"

I took a breath, steadying myself.

"Same as the others," I remarked. "No blood, no sign of a struggle, no drag marks. One set of foot prints along the path in; same prints exit along the same path. It's a secluded area off the main road. Tire tracks come right up to the tree line."

"And the body." Grissom prompted.

"The body," my voice quivered. "The body appears clean. There are no visible marks on the body to suggest a violent death. Discoloration around the mouth could be a sign of poisoning."

"Good eye. Toxicology should tell us more."

Grissom stood up and as Warrick approached.

"I think we're done here," he said. "It's just like the rest. Shoe prints, tire tracks, fibers probably from the girl's blanket, but not much else. We've got a dump scene here; this girl was dead long before she was brought here. "

"I agree," Grissom add. "David should be arriving shortly to collect the body. You and Nick stay here until he comes, Anna and I will head back to the lab."

Not long after we arrived David returned with the body and I was told to collect trace.

"Annabelle," Grissom said entering the morgue. "The Lowery's are here to identify the body."

I smoothed the girl's hair and pulled the sheet to her shoulders. It was heart breaking watching Jason Lowery escort his wife Amanda in. She was already crying as she approached the table.

"No! Maddie" she cried. "My baby! My baby!"

Her husband held her crying silent tears.

I covered the child's face as Grissom led her parents out of the room.

When I'd taken my findings to the lab I hid myself away in the break room. Closing my eyes I plopped down on the sofa.

The cushion sank, announcing the presence of a second person on the sofa.

Before I can open my eyes the person spoke.

"You okay, Sweetie?"

Eyes still closed I shift my weight and laid my head on my husband's shoulder.

"Tough case?"

"Madeline Lowery," I said with a sign.

"No," he said disappointment in his voice. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I just…" I sat up in frustration. "She's just…"

"The same age as the twins."

"Yes!" My voice cracked. "They all were. Three girls now," I said facing him, "three precious little girls who never hurt anyone. Three families destroyed." I started crying remembering Mrs. Lowery's reaction when she saw her daughter. "We're no closer to solving it either. What do we tell them? What do we tell the parents of these girls?"

"We tell them we're trying. It's not going to be what they want to hear, but it's the best we can do."

"Would it be enough for you," I asked in earnest, "if it were one of the twins?"

"Probably not," he said seeing my dilemma. "I know this case has been tough on you. It's been hard on me too." He wrapped his arms around me and drew me closer to him. "We just have to keep working and not give up. We couldn't save those girls, but there is nothing we can do about that. You just remember that our job isn't done until the truth is found."

Just then Greg's phone rang. It was Catharine letting Greg know they had a lead on the case he'd been working.

"See you later," I said giving him a quick kiss.

I spent the remainder of my night was spent pouring over the case files of what Las Vegas media had dubbed "The Sweetheart Slayer". We'd held back a great deal of information from the media but their ages and appearance had struck a chord, earning them the title of Vegas' Stolen Sweethearts.

As I read a case report for what seemed like the hundredth time there was a knock at the door.

"Come on Hun," Greg said. "Let's head home."

Greg and I arrived home to find the house quiet.

Our nanny, Becky, was asleep in her room and the children were tucked in their beds.

I stood in Caroline's bedroom looking through the open bathroom door that led into Alex's room. They'd had separate rooms from infancy, but as they'd grew they started leaving their doors open, remaining within sight of each other as they fell asleep.

Stopping in the doorway I looked at Caroline, her soft red curls wild across her pillow.

"You gonna come to bed," Greg said wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Look at her," I whispered, fighting back tears. "How? How could someone…"

"I don't know," Greg held me tighter. "I could never understand how those people think. Stop beating yourself up. You're doing your best. It hurts but sometimes we just have to leave it at the lab. Come home, kiss our children goodnight and come to bed and try to relax."

Taking a deep sigh I decided take Greg's advice. Those girls were gone and that was tragic but my Caroline was here and I could rejoice in that.

(Ok...so this is pretty much just an introductory chapter. Sorry if it's kind of slow. It will pick up soon, I promise. Please read and review.)


	2. Noticing Differences

(A/N: I guess I kind of threw a curve ball at you in that first chapter. I realize that's a tough case to start off with, but the more I write these things the braver I seem to get. Anyway…here were go into the next chapter. Still in Anna's POV.)

**Chapter 2: Noticing Differences**

It had been over a week since we'd found the body of three-year-old Madeline Lowery. I breathed a sigh of relief as days went by without a missing child. Though the work was getting us seemingly nowhere, I was happy to not be faced with another missing girl and another devastated family.

Staring at case files, yet again, I was startled by a whistle from the door.

"Come on," Nick called in his thick Texas drawl. "We're rollin' out."

Grabbing my kit I met him at the car. "What have we got," I asked as I climbed in the passenger seat.

"Missing child."

Instantly my heart sank. "Let me guess," I groaned. "Three-year-old girl?"

"Yeah," Nick sighed. "But maybe this one will be different."

"Maybe," I repeated, though not believing it.

Right away I started noticing differences. Danica Rollins was a three-year-old black girl. All of the other girls had been not only white, but with blond hair and blue eyes. This just didn't fit. Aside from that, the circumstances surrounding her disappearance were not line with the other girls. The first three had been abducted out in the open in public places; a supermarket, a doctor's office, a department store. They had all been taken in a matter of moments when their mothers were distracted. Danica had disappeared from her own backyard.

"I came home from work and found my oldest daughter in the kitchen doing her homework," Beth Ann Rollins said when we asked her to tell us what happened. "I asked her where Danica was and she said she was outside playing. I went to the back door and I didn't see her. I called out, thinking maybe she was just next door playing with her friends but she didn't answer. Then I told Leta to start on one side of the street and I started on the other. After an hour of ringing door bells I called you."

"Mrs. Rollins," I asked, "is Danica an adventurous child?"

Mrs. Rollins looked confused.

"What I mean is; does she wander off a lot?"

"Not really. I mean she climbed the neighbor's fence last week to play with their new puppy but I thought she'd learned her lesson."

Nick was talking to sixteen-year-old Leta when I finished with the mother.

"How long had it been since you last checked on her?"

"I don't know," the girl said indignantly, "about an hour? I was doing my homework. She knows she's not supposed to leave the yard without me."

"She's three," I said appalled.

The girl's eyes snapped to me.

"Since when does having a kid sister make me an automatic babysitter?"

"Since your mom asked you to watch her," Nick retorted. "Your little sister is missing; you could show a little concern and drop the attitude."

"Whatever."

"Stokes, Sanders," an officer called across the lawn and waved us over. "We found this in the bushes just down the street." The officer held up a small purple sweater. "The dogs got a scent leading off into the woods."

An hour later we'd followed the trail through a small thicket of trees that surrounded a drainage ditch. The dogs lost the scent at the edge of the ditch. Feeling that the only natural direction to search was in the direction of the water flow, Nick and I walked along the ravine for about a mile until we saw something floating in the water.

Not forty-eight hours later officers had returned to the Rollins home and where leading Leta Rollins away in handcuffs. After minimal interrogation the girl came forward with the truth. She'd been watching TV when Danica asked if she could play outside. Annoyed Leta simply opened the back door allowing the girl to run outside. An hour later she got up to check on her and found Danica lying on the ground with a gash on her head.

"It was an accident," she insisted. "She must have been trying to climb the fence again. She fell."

"What will happen to her," Mrs. Rollins watching her daughter cry through the window of the interrogation room.

"If the coroner's report supports her story it's neglect at the very least," Nick answered.

"If not they could reach as high as man-slaughter or even homicide."

As Mrs. Rollins broke down at the fate of her oldest daughter and the unfortunate lost of her youngest, I couldn't help but be relieved at the simplicity of the case.


	3. I Told You I'd Be Here

(A/N: Here we go with chapter three. A little bit of intro here. This is where the crossover comes in. If you're not familiar with Criminal Minds feel free to email me with any questions. . Big thank you to my Beta, LaurynBrook. Thanks for helping me suck less. This chapter is from Reid's point of view.)

**Chapter 3: I Told You I'd Be Here**

My eyes squinted to read the clock as my phone woke me from a deep sleep. Though it wasn't the first time I'd been awaken in the middle of the night by a ringing phone, I was confused all the same. My cell phone sat motionless on the bedside table as the jarring rings came from the cordless phone on the charger next to it.

"Hello," I answered somewhere between sleep and confusion.

"Spencer," the voice on the other end called almost pleading.

I recognized her voice immediately, but her tone was strange.

"Annabelle? Annabelle what wrong?"

"I'm sorry to call so late," she sobbed, "it's just…"

"No, no, it's fine. It's not that late really. What's going on?"

The story I received over the next hour was pieced together between sobs and mumbles. It was torture listening to her in such pain. I'd never heard her in such a state. I wanted to hug her, to let her know everything was going to be alright.

"I'll take care of it," was all I could manage. "Don't worry; I'll there as soon as I can."

Once I hung up the phone I picked up my phone and dialed franticly.

"JJ, get everyone together. We need to fly out tonight. It's an emergency."

I was sure JJ had questions. I'd never called in the middle of the night insisting a team meeting, but I wasn't in any position to give answers right now. I packed as faster than I ever had, cursing at every step that I didn't have a bag pre-packed for once in my life.

Not surprisingly I reached headquarters before the others. They filed in confused and sleepy, looking to me for answers. I said nothing. This wasn't something I wanted to repeat.

"Ok Reid," Hotch said seriously. "What's going on? Why are we all here in the middle of the night?

Taking a breath I passed out the case files Garcia had printed only moments before and tried to think of a way to explain without babbling. I tend to babble when I'm nervous and I didn't need that delay right now.

"Three girls so far," I started. "Kidnapped, murdered, and dumped in a secluded area. All of them age three, Caucasian, blonde hair, blue eyes."

"I've heard about this," JJ added. "The papers have named the unsub "The Sweetheart Slayer." Vegas PD requested that we take a look, but I hadn't gotten to it yet."

"We need to go to Vegas."

"Now," JJ questioned. "No offence, Reid, but there are ten other case files on my desk right now. What makes this case so special?"

"Annabelle Sanders," I said pointing to the CSI's name in the case file. "We went to school together, well her brother and I did. She was the only friend I had my age," I remembered, "the only friend I had at all really."

"Ok, so it's your friend's case."

"It was," I sighed, "until yesterday."

I laid a new police report in front of them.

"Alex and Caroline Sanders, age 3, taken from a playground while the nanny's back was turned."

"Her kids," Morgan questioned.

I nodded.

"Any suspects?" Rossi asked. "The father maybe?"

"No, he was with her. He works for the crime lab, too. They were both working a hit and run when the nanny paged with the 911."

"Any chance this could be unrelated to the Sweetheart case?" Morgan asked.

"It's possible, but in any case Annabelle asked for my help. I'm going whether anyone else does or not."

"We'll go, Reid," Hotch said picking up his cell phone. "I'll ready the jet."

"You're a good friend." JJ said sitting down next to me.

I looked up from my daze as the jet flew somewhere over the southwest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean packing up in the middle of the night and flying across the country to help her out. That's pretty big."

"I guess I don't think about it that way. When it comes to Annabelle there's very little I wouldn't do. We've been friends since I we were twelve years old. It isn't exactly easy being a twelve year old senior, and it's even worse when your English teacher asks you to tutor the captain of the baseball team. I thought tutoring her brother Tom was going to be a nightmare. I hardly knew anything about him except that he was popular and six years older than me like everyone else in my class. He turned out to be a decent guy. When I went to his house for our first session he introduced me to Annabelle. We hit it off right away. It was weird. I never fit in with anyone, let alone someone my own age."

"First girlfriend," JJ asked intrigued.

"No. It was never like that. I took her to her prom. I was in college by then, but that was the closest thing to a date we ever had. I just never thought of her like that."

"What do you know about her husband?"

"I haven't had a chance to meet him, but he sounds like a nice guy. Smart," I said recalling conversations we'd had about Greg, "studied chemistry at Stanford. He worked in the lab until just after they were married."

Just then the jet started its landing procedure, and within moments we were on the ground.

"Are you going to call your friend," Prentiss asked, "let her know we've landed?"

I looked at my watch. 5:00 AM Vegas time.

"It's too early to bother them," I said rubbing my eyes. "Besides, they're probably exhausted. Annabelle sounded like she hadn't slept. I think we should just go to the Crime Lab. Annabelle said the case is being handled by CSI."

"Spencer!"

Before I had time to respond Annabelle had thrown her arms around me.

"I can't believe you really came," she cried. "I knew you would if you could, but I never thought you'd be able too."

"I told you I'd be here."

"Thank you. You have no idea what this means to us."

"You must be Greg," I said offering my hand to the man at her side. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances."

"Nice to meet you," Greg said dejectedly. He wasn't the energetic man Annabelle had gushed about in her letters. It didn't take a profiler to see that these two people were in a lot of pain.

"This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA David Rossi, SSA Derek Morgan, SA Emily Prentiss, and SA Jennifer Jareau."

"It's nice to meet you all," Annabelle said in an impressive balance of grace and sorrow. "Thank you so much for coming. This is my supervisor Gil Grissom. The rest of the team is around here somewhere. We keep insisting they go home and get some rest, but they won't leave us."

"We would never leave family in a time of need," the man she'd introduced added. "My team and my lab are at your disposal. Anything you need just ask."

"Actually," Hotch said, "we could use a base of operation, room with a fair amount of space and a phone. A computer would be ideal but not necessary."

"I think I have just the place for you."

"Thank you. While we're getting set up here Mrs. Sanders," Hotch asked, "would you mind taking Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau to your home? We need to get a feel for what kind of children the twins are."

"Not at all," Annabelle said willingly, "anything I can do to help."

"Does this adjoining door stay open," I asked feeling awkward profiling my friend and her children.

"Always. We put them in separate rooms from birth. We thought it would be easier than having to split them up when they got older. As soon as they could walk they could reach they started opening the door. We just keep it open now."

Walking over to Caroline's bed I looked through to doorway noticing the direct sightline to Alex's.

"How do they sleep?" I asked vaguely. "What I mean is, what position do they sleep in, backs to the wall, on their stomachs, tossing around?"

"Facing each other." she said understanding my reasoning. "They stay insight of each other until they fall asleep."

"Interesting."

"Why," asked Greg slightly confused.

"A connect like this, the constant contact with each other, the need for the other's presence. It's very unique."

"I just assumed it was a twin thing."

"To some degree yes," I said, "There are numerous studies about the physiological and psychological bond between twins. Reversed asymmetry monozygotic eggs, for example, split late. Somewhere between 9 to 12 days. The DNA matches right down to the very last stranded code, and there's sporadic documentation of shared physiological pain. Though seeing this sort of thing in fraternal twins is uncommon."

"So what does this tell us," Greg questioned. "Why is this closeness relevant to their kidnapping?"

"Well," I said thinking, "I understand Caroline is being called the fourth "sweetheart."" Annabelle cringed. "If that's the case, this 'closeness' as you called it could be the reason Alex was taken, too. If Alex fought to stay with his sister, which is probable, then it's likely that the kidnapper was forced into taking him or risk drawing attention."

"So," Annabelle sighed, "you're saying it's possible Caroline could have been the target? This could be the same," she paused, "killer as before?"

"It's possible," I said hesitantly, "but we're looking at other angles. I could have it all wrong."

It seemed, when we returned to the lab, that those 'other angles' I mentioned were numerous.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sanders," Morgan asked when we'd all settle in back at the lab, "We were looking through your files, trying to pinpoint possible enemies and we came across a few things we'd like to ask you about."

"Ask whatever you want," Greg prompted, "our lives are an open book."

"I see a case report here that lists you, Mrs. Sanders, as the victim of an attempted murder."

"Twice actually," she said in complete earnest.

"Do you mind elaborating?" Prentiss asked.

"The first was shortly after I joined the department. The team was working a case. Two murders linked by MO and the gym membership of the victims. The killer turned out to belong to the same gym. She was obsessed with the gym owner and saw any woman he spoke to as a threat. Unfortunately, she saw me questioning him. She attacked me in my home two days later."

"The case file says she was apprehended," Morgan said reading.

"Yes," Greg answered for Annabelle. "She's serving a life sentence in a maximum security hospital. She was found to be a constant danger to herself and others."

"And the second attempt?" Hotch asked.

"That was my fault," Greg said, but the sharp look from Annabelle told me he was being too hard on himself. "While Anna was pregnant with the twins I was assigned to a case. A six-year-old boy had been poisoned. Our evidence convicted his mother. Afterwards the father threatened us on two occasions. I didn't say anything at first, but when I did it was too late." Greg swallowed hard. The memory was obviously painful for him. "He took Anna, tied her up, beat her. He was going to kill her," he paused, "and the twins."

"I see here that he's currently serving three consecutive life sentences?"

"Yes."

"Does he have any family left? Anyone who might be interesting on carrying on his work?"

Annabelle shook her head. "No. His wife hung herself in prison. They didn't have any other family so their youngest son was place in foster care. We heard he was adopted last year, his records have been sealed to protect him from his father in the event that he does escape."

"This last one," Morgan said, "is about you Mr. Sanders."

Greg put up his hand halting the question.

"A couple years ago a gang of teenagers decided to get their kicks by beating up tourists. They'd already killed one person and injured another. I was in route to a scene when I saw them attacking a third victim. I called for back up but I couldn't wait," Greg was getting upset remembering. "I revved the engine and honked to drive them away. One of them charged the car so I drove toward him hoping he'd back off. He didn't. He died in the hospital. After I hit him his friends dragged me out of my truck and beat me."

"There was an inquest into the boy's death," Hotch said knowing protocol.

"Yes," Annabelle said, this time answering for Greg, "It was found to be excusable."

"The boy's family filed a civil suit later. The city settled the case."

"Could the boy's family be out to get you still?"

"His brother is in jail on an unrelated charge. The mom is upset but harmless."

"Besides," the one they called Nick said, "the James' take revenge in monetary form. Kidnapping isn't their style."

"That brings us back to the 'Sweetheart Slayer'," Prentiss sighed.

"Which brings us back to nothing," Annabelle said in sorrow.

Just then the woman introduced as Catherine came sprinting down the hall.

"Anna! Greg! LVPD," she said slightly winded, "they've got Alex."

Annabelle gave something that feel between a gasp and a cry.

"They're taking him to University Medical. Come on, Brass has a police escort waiting."

(Insert suspenseful music here…lol. Hope you like my cliffhanger. Thought it only appropriate after what CSI did to us tonight. Hope you like it. Leave me a review. If you give me a useful idea you get listed in my notes…and I may just give you a sneak peak at what's to come.)


	4. Speak His Language

(A/N: So what'd you think of the last chapter

(A/N: So what'd you think of the last chapter? Did you see it coming? To warn you…this stuff may start coming fast. With all of the shows ending for the summer I'll have lots of free evenings. I hear Criminal Minds will be just as heart stopping as CSI…and will have an equally angering cliffhanger. Well, here we go with chapter 4. Still in Reid's POV.)

**Chapter 4: Speak His Language**

"He was unconscious when they brought him in." the doctor said calmly. "Discoloration around his mouth suggested some sort of poison, so we pumped his stomach."

"But he's," Annabelle was crying, "he's alright?"

"He's going to be fine. He'll be a little queasy from the meds we gave him to eradicate the rest of the poison and he's understandably upset, but with some rest and the love of his parents, he'll make a full recovery."

"Can we see him?" Greg asked anxiously.

"Certainly," the doctor said reviewing Alex's chart, "but I do have one question. How are Alex's language skills?"

"His language skills?" Annabelle asked confused. "Fine, above average actually. Why?"

"Well, when he first woke up the officers who brought him in tried to question him, hoping he'd remember something about the kidnapper, but he didn't speak. After we contacted you I told him his mom and dad where on their way and he said nothing."

"It is likely," I interjected, "that he is suffering from Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. It can cause a person to withdraw and isolate themselves. The feelings of fear and hopelessness can continue long after the event is over." I looked at Annabelle hating to be the bearer of bad news. "It could be much worse on him being separated from Caroline. If he has asserted himself as her protector then he will feel like he has failed. Feelings of guilt are usually observed in children around the age of three."

"So what do we do?" Greg addressed his question to me instead of the doctor. "How do we help him through this?"

"It's important at this point to just show him you care. Reassure him that this is not his fault and that he did his best. Now, usually its best to give someone with PTSD space; to show support, but try not to push. However, at Alex's age that could do more harm than good. Children who are kidnapped often feel that their parents abandoned them. You need to reassure him that this was not the case. He needs to see how worried you were about him and how worried you still are about Caroline. Don't be afraid to show your emotions, it will help him deal with his."

Annabelle took a deep breath. "We'd like to see him now, doctor." He motioned for them to follow him. "Spencer, would you come please?"

I nodded and followed nervously behind them.

There was surprise on Alex's face when his parents walked in. It was almost as if he didn't expect them to come.

Annabelle and Greg ran to the boy showering in with hugs and kisses.

"Honey," Annabelle said through tears, "are you ok? Mommy and Daddy were so worried."

He nodded his little head.

"We tried to find you," Greg said also in tears. "We looked so hard."

The boy said nothing. He just looked around the room then made the shape of a 'C' with his hand and placed it over his heart.

Greg and Annabelle looked at each other in fright.

"What is it?" I asked confused.

"He wants to know where Caroline is." Greg said taking his son's hand. "We don't know yet. We're still looking for her."

Alex shifted, turning his face away from his parents and closing his eyes.

Greg tried to comfort his wife whose sobs had returned.

"We taught them sign language," Greg said preempting my question. "All of the studies said it would make them less irritable. If they knew how to express what they wanted to say, even before they could say it, they would be able to convey their emotions better. Not to mention better language skills, a higher capacity for learning, and bonding time with the parents. We were pleased with the results, it turned out to be everything they said it was and more but…"

"…but?" I prompted.

"About four months into it, just after they were a year old, they started making signs we didn't understand. They would sit in front of each other for hours and sign."

"Were they picking up more advanced signs," I asked confused.

"No," Annabelle answered, "they were creating them."

"Creating?"

"They all had roots in signs we'd taught them, but they were varied or conjoined. They were would still communicate with us through the set signs, but when they spoke to each other, it was always their own."

"You're talking about idioglossia," I said amazed.

Annabelle nodded. "Twin speak. We did research once we realized what they were doing."

"How advanced is this language?"

"Very," Greg answered. "We could keep up at first, but the older they get the more it develops. They keep changing it and adding new words. At this point we can only understand a few words."

"Like 'Caroline'," Annabelle said repeating the sign Alex had done. "And Alex." She closed her fist, into what I recognized as the sign for the letter 'A', still over her heart."

There was a knock at the door and JJ slowly stepped in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, "but CSI Grissom just called. He'd like one of you to come to the scene where they found Alex. He said that it will only be for a minute and then you can come right back to Alex. He just wants to see if anything stands out as familiar to you."

"I'll go." Greg said standing. "You stay with him." He kissed Annabelle then bent to kiss a sleeping Alex.

"CSI Willows is waiting for you at the nurses' station," JJ said excusing herself from the room.

Stopping in front of me as he passed, Greg's eyes met mine and I saw the depth of his fear.

"I know you're supposed to be working the case," he said, "but would you mind staying with Anna and Alex?"

"Not at all."

"Thanks. Anna was right about you. You're a good friend."

After Greg left we sat there in silence. Annabelle just looked at Alex.

"It's amazing," she said, "how much he looks like Greg." She was right. Alex was a carbon copy of his father, except for the red hair.

"Two years ago when Greg was caught up in that beating I sat by his bed and watched him. I remember being so afraid that the doctor's weren't telling me the whole story. I kept thinking he was going to fall asleep and never wake up." She touched Alex's face, run her fingers gently near the corner of his mouth where some discoloration remained. "I shouldn't have to do this." She cried. "We've already been through so much. I shouldn't have to watch my little boy suffer. I shouldn't have to wonder where my little girl is…if she's..." She stopped unable to speak. Turning quickly she fell against my chest and wept violently.

"It's going to be ok." I said in my best attempt to comfort her. "I promise you. I promise we will find her. Whatever it takes, I will bring her back to you."

"I wish I could believe you," she said drying her eyes.

Then suddenly she looked pale and unstable on her feet.

"Are you okay? Do you need to sit down or have a glass of water?"

"Yeah," she said weakly. "Just a little dizzy. I haven't gotten much sleep and I don't remember the last time I ate something."

"Do you want me to go get you something? Your only choices are a vending machine or the cafeteria, but it's better than nothing."

"You don't have to," she said sitting down in the chair next to Alex's bed.

"It's nothing. I'll be right back."

When I returned with Annabelle's food I noticed JJ hanging up her phone.

"Any new news?"

"No," she said. "Mr. Sanders didn't find anything out of place at the scene. CSI Grissom confirmed that it was similar to the other scenes except for Alex. The girls were all wrapped neatly in pink blankets out of site of the road. Alex was just lying there in plain sight. As if the unsub didn't care if he was seen."

"Well," I shrugged, "It holds to the MO. Wrapping the girls shows care and remorse. There is affection there. The lack of attention to Alex's scene shows that Caroline was the true target. The unsub didn't care about Alex."

"How is he?"

"It's PTSD for sure. He is still really scared and shaken up. He still won't speak, not even to Greg and Annabelle. He's not using words anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Alex and Caroline have an idioglossia."

JJ looked confused.

"A twin language. Greg and Annabelle taught them sign language as babies and they developed their own signs to communicate with each other. The only thing he has said so far is 'Caroline'." I said mimicking the sign.

"Wow, their own language at three years old."

"Most idioglossia are developed at a young age and forgotten by the time the twins reach adolescence. Around the time they begin to interact with other children."

"Too bad no one can speak his language. He might talk to us like that."

Just then it hit me.

"That's it! JJ, that's the answer! Here," I thrust the food at her and darted off in the other direction calling back, "Give that to Annabelle. Tell her I'll be right back."

(Sorry to stop there, but if I go on much longer I'll never stop. Chapters have to stop somewhere. I promise to update soon.)


	5. Let’s Make It A Game

(A/N: Are we ready for another chapter? Do I even have readers? I haven't been getting many reviews on this one. If you're reading I'd love for you to review…reviews let me know what I'm doing wrong or right. Reviews let me know what you think. So please…if you're reading…review. It only takes a minute. This chapter continues in Reid's POV. Thanks to Adreon for stepping in to edit this one. I've been dying to get it up and couldn't wait any longer. Thanks girl.)

**Chapter 5: Let's Make It A Game**

After about an hour of scouring the hospital gift shop and using my credentials to gain access to a computer with a printer I had assembled everything I needed.

"Where did you go?" Annabelle asked as I walked into Alex's room. "Agent Jareau said you just ran off without saying why."

"Sorry," I said sitting down the stack of supplies I'd collected. "I had an idea."

"An idea for what?" Greg asked, having obviously returned while I was gone.

"An idea to get Alex to talk to us."

They looked confused.

"The only thing he's said so far was in his language, their language I mean…his and Caroline's. I think that's probably how they were communicating when the unsub had them. The trauma of being separated from her has forced him to continue communicating in this way. I think he'll speak to us if we can understand their language."

"How are we supposed to understand their language?" Annabelle questioned. "We've been watching them use it for over two years and we can only understand fragments. Fragments of fragments, actually."

"That's what this is for," I said gesturing to the items I'd brought in. "If I can catalogue their terms, compile them into dictionary, we can use it as a key to speak to him."

"You really think this could work?" Greg asked.

"I think it could. This language is his connection with Caroline; if we can connect with him on the same level then I think he'll confide in us."

"I don't know that he'll confide in us at all," Annabelle said. "Greg and I, I mean. The doctors said he was awake and alert when they were with him. Agent Jareau sat with him for a moment while the police questioned us and he was awake with her, too." She started to cry again. "Every time when we come in the room he turns his back and goes to sleep. He doesn't want anything to do with us."

Greg wrapped his arm around her.

"It's not us," he reassured her. "It's PTSD, right?"

"Absolutely. Like I said before, often, in situations like this, the child can retain the feelings of fear and abandonment. He still doesn't understand why this happened or why he's not with Caroline anymore. As his parents, he expects you to have all the answers. The fact that you don't confuses him."

"Maybe she's right though," Greg said, "maybe you should talk to him alone. He might be more likely to talk to you if we're not there."

"If you think so," I said, "but this might take a little while."

"Its fine," Annabelle said with a sniffle. "We need to go by the house and get a change of clothes and some things for Alex."

"Then you can get some sleep," Greg told her. "The hospital has offered us the room next door so that we could catch up on our rest and stay close to Alex."

"Alright. I'll get started with Alex as soon as he wakes up. I promise," I said looking at Annabelle, "I'll figure this out."

Annabelle hugged me then left.

Just as soon as the door closed Alex stirred and opened his eyes.

He looked at me as if expecting me to ask him questions. I supposed everyone had at this point.

"Hi Alex," I said timidly. "My name is Spencer. I'm a friend of your mom's." I stepped toward him, trying to gage his reaction to my presence. He simply looked at me. "Your mom and dad told me about how you and Caroline," I made the sign he'd made earlier, "talk to each other. I think that's really cool. Do you think you could show me some words?"

Alex shrugged his shoulders.

"I have an idea. Let's make it a game. I'll show you a picture and if you and Caroline have a word for it, you show me how to do it, okay?"

He nodded.

"Okay. Let's start with this," I held up a piece of red paper. "Do you have a word for this color?"

He nodded and touched his hair.

"I see," I said catching on, "red like your hair, very cool. What about this color?" I held up a piece of yellow paper.

He drew a circle with his index finger and then made a 'Y'.

"Oh," I mimicked the sign. "Like the sun."

Alex nodded.

"This is fun. Do you want to keep playing?"

Alex nodded and situated himself cross-legged on top of his bed covers, then pointed at the foot of the bed. Taking this as an invitation, I removed my shoes and sat on the end of the bed cross-legged like him.

He pointed to my socks.

"They don't match," I laughed. "Funny isn't it."

Alex gave the smallest hint of a smile.

"Ready for another picture?"

Alex nodded.

Over an hour passed before I realized how long we'd been working. We'd made incredible progress; I was starting to understand the methodology of their language. It was simple, yet complicated. Signs were based on other words they associated with that word. Connections a child would make, but an adult might overlook. When the nurse came in to bring Alex his lunch I was already able to convey to her his dislike for orange Jell-O, and ask if she wouldn't mind switching it for green.

After lunch the doctor came and said Alex needed his rest.

"Okay pal," I said, "I've got to let you get some sleep." I used as many signs as I could to show him that I was catching on. "I'll be here when you wake up and we can play some more. Alright?"

Alex nodded. Then made some signs I recognized.

"Your mom and dad," I repeated aloud. "They're in the next room. They're really worried about you. When you wake up I can bring them in and we can let them play our game. Would you like that?"

Alex made the sign for maybe.

"We'll see, then. Get some sleep, okay buddy."

Stepping outside, I was met by Greg looking fresher, but no more rested than an hour ago.

"So? Is it working? Is he talking to you?"

"At this point he's just playing with me. I've made it into a game. I show him a picture and he shows me the sign."

"Are you learning much," Annabelle said sleepily joining us.

"Tons," I reassured them. "I think we can start asking him questions soon. I think he'll tell us something now."

"You mean he'll tell you," Annabelle sighed.

"He asked about you," I told her honestly. "He asked where you were. I told him you were in the next room and asked if I could bring you in on our game."

"What did he say," Greg asked.

"He said maybe."

"Well," Greg shrugged, "it's a start."

"It's more than that," I said with a yawn, "its progress."

"Spencer," Annabelle said mirroring my yawn. "You look exhausted. Why don't you go back to the hotel and get some sleep? You haven't even dropped off your bags yet. You need rest."

"So do you," Greg told her.

"You're one to talk."

"We could all use some sleep," I told them both. "How about this, you two go back in there and get some sleep and I promise to go back to the hotel and rest. Alex will probably be out for a little while anyway."

"Deal," Annabelle said stretching.

(So? What do you think? I know this chapter is a little tamer than the others, but there needed to be a discovery period, a time where Reid could figure out a way to get Alex to talk. Again please, please, please review! I would really like to know what you guys think. Like I've said before, giving me a review that can help the story is the fasted way to get your name in the Author's Note. Also, if I use your idea, I will grant you a sneak peak on my plans to come. Trust me…these are clues you don't want to miss. So please…if you read, review!)


	6. Getting Somewhere

(A/N: So…only one reviews. What do I have to do to get some feedback here people? Offer bribes? Beg? Ok…I'm begging. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!! I want to know what you think. I want to know that people are actually reading this. Come on guys…tell me what you think. Anyway…here we go. This chapter continues in Reid's POV. Adreon…you rock. Woo-hoo for editing while babies sleep…that's what I call multi-tasking. Thanks also to Sandy for my insider knowledge of vegas, I can't wait to come.)

**Chapter 6: ****We're Getting Somewhere**

"Reid. Reid."

I woke with a start.

"I'm up. I'm up."

"Easy Reid," Morgan said as the world around me cleared, "It's just me."

"What time is it?" I said stretching.

"A little after noon," he checked his watch. "What are you doing here?"

I looked around finding myself in the break room of the crime lab.

"Oh," I remembered, "I was on my way to the hotel to get some sleep and I thought I'd stop by and see if there had been any progress. No one was here," I yawned, "so I came in here to wait. I must have fallen asleep."

"We went to review the scenes. The abduction sites and where the bodies were found. We're all regrouping now if you want to hear how it went."

Sleepily I followed Morgan to the room we'd quickly made our own. The team was gathered there, even JJ, and we were joined by Annabelle's co-workers, CSIs Stokes, Brown, Willows, and Grissom.

"Reid," JJ said as I entered. "Anna said you'd gone back to the hotel to rest."

"I was on my way, but I stopped by to catch up on things here. I fell asleep in the break room."

"Well," Hotch said, "we can use all the help we can get."

"Visiting the scenes didn't turn up anything?" I asked.

"Nothing," Prentiss added. "The places were all busy, crowed areas that are constantly populated by children. It's possible the children were chosen at random or that the kidnapper had been watching."

"By now all any evidence is gone," CSI Stokes said, "but even when the scene was fresh there was nothing to find."

"Re-interviewing the witnesses was a bust too," said CSI Willows. "They barely remembered seeing anything when it happened."

"Our best bet at this point," Hotch said, "is to learn what we can from Alex. He is our only lead."

"Too bad he's not talking," CSI Stokes said.

"Not out loud," JJ said, "but Spencer thinks he's found a way to communicate with him."

"Communicate?" Grissom questioned.

I nodded. "It seems that Alex and Caroline have a way of communicating through hand signals."

"The twin language thing?" Stokes asked.

"It's called idioglossia. It is exactly what CSI Stokes said, a 'twin language'. It is a complete language that Alex and Caroline have developed as a way to communicate without being overheard. I believe they used it to talk to each other so the unsub wouldn't understand. When the unsub separated them Alex held on to that language as a way to hold on to Caroline."

"Even still," Grissom said, "how can you communicate with him if it's his and Caroline's secret language? How can you understand him?"

"I made it a game," I said trying not to sound smug. "I showed him pictures, flash cards. I asked him if he and Caroline had a word for whatever it was I showed him. I was able to catalogue a few dozen signs so far."

"A few dozen?" Morgan questioned.

"Seventy-nine," I said, "to be exact."

"Do you think you'd be able to get any information from him? Do you think he's ready to answer questions?"

"We never know until we try."

"Well, you head back to the hospital and keep working with Alex." Hotch instructed. "Let us know as soon as you find out anything."

Back at the hospital I found Alex awake and waiting for me.

"Hey buddy. Did you sleep well?" I signed as spoke.

He signed back 'kind of'.

"Why just kind of?"

He only signed back, 'Caroline'.

"You miss her, huh?"

He nodded.

"We're working really hard to find her, but we need your help. Do you think you're up to answering some questions for me?"

He looked away.

"I know it's hard. It had to be scary where you were, but she's still there. You might be the only one who can help us find her."

He signed 'okay'.

"Okay," I sighed relieved he was willing to try. "We'll take this slow. If you get to tired and want to stop just tell me."

For the next hour we worked slowly as Alex struggled to answer questions about his ordeal. A few times he had to stop, unable to hold back his emotions, try as he might.

"You did well," I reassured him when we'd finished. "We're going to find her and its going to be because of what you just told me."

As I stood up to leave Alex's hands moved in a flash of signs.

"She's sleeping in the next room," I answered. "Do you want me to wake her for you?"

He shook his head.

"Alright," I said, "I'll be back soon."

Stepping outside I pulled out my cell to tell Hotch to get the team together for a briefing. As I dialed I heard Alex's door slowly open and watched as the boy tiptoed to the next door over and peeked in the window. Obviously satisfied with what he saw, he sneaked inside, closing the door behind him.

"Hotch," I said making my way over to the door, "I've got some tips from Alex." Looking inside I found that Alex had crawled up in the bed with his mother and was now cuddled against her. "Round up the team, I'm on my way now." I smiled as a still sleeping Annabelle instinctively wrapped her arms around her son.

"So," Morgan prompted when the team had gathered. "What did you get from Alex?"

"A lot, actually. Enough for what I feel to be a pretty definitive profile."

"Go on," Grissom urged.

"Well for one thing," I sighed, "the unsub is female."

"A woman," CSI Stokes said in shock. "Are you sure?"

"Alex was very clear about that fact."

"A female serial killer," CSI Brown mused, "how often does that happen?"

"Only eight percent of serial killers are female." I answered automatically. "Female serials usually fit into one of seven categories: Black Widow, Angel of Death, Sexual Predator, Revenge, Profit or Crime, Team Killer and Question of Sanity."

"So which kind are we dealing with here," CSI Willows questioned.

"Question of sanity?" Morgan suggested.

"No," I shook my head. "There is no question that this woman is disturbed, they all are to some degree, but from what Alex said she acted just as any other woman he'd met. He said she was friendly to Caroline, but hardly spoke to him."

"So what are we looking at?"

"Revenge most likely."

"Revenge?" Hotch questioned. "On what grounds?"

"Alex said the unsub told Caroline to call her 'mommy' and that she called her a different name, though he didn't know how to tell me that name."

Everyone looked pensive, so I went on.

"He also said that the unsub 'painted' Caroline's hair."

"Painted her hair?" Grissom asked. "She dyed it?"

I nodded. "That's the conclusion I came to."

"Calling her by a different name, dying her hair, it sounds like the unsub is looking to replace her own child."

"Exactly," I said. "All of the previous victims had a similar appearance. I think this unsub has suffered the loss of a child and now she's looking for another one to replace it."

"A daughter one would assume," Prentiss suggested. "If she was blonde there is a good chance the mother is too."

I nodded. "Alex said that she had yellow hair."

"The loss of her daughter," CSI Willows questioned. "How far back are we talking?"

"Probably recently. This would have also been a tragic unexpected death, possibly at the hands of another, even the mother."

"So," CSI Stokes sighed. "Where do we start?"

"I'm already on it," Morgan said, ear already to his cell phone. "Garcia, we need those magic hands, baby doll. I need you to do a search for three year old girls who died within in the last year, specifically those with blonde hair and blue eyes. Natural or accidental death is possible, but don't rule out homicide or neglect. You're a goddess;" he said in a shower of adulation, "hit me back when you find something."

"Garcia will most likely have some info to us in the next few minutes," Hotch remarked to Annabelle's slightly confused co-workers. "What else to do you have Reid?"

"Alex was also able to give me some information about where they were being held. He said he never got to look outside; that she kept him in a closet, but that he could see Caroline through the cracks in the door. She told him that out the window she could see grass and other houses. She said 'the ground was close,' so I assume they were in a room on ground level. Alex said he could hear airplanes a few times a day. They sounded close, but Caroline said she couldn't see them."

"So we're looking for a neighborhood near an airport." CSI Willows said.

"Probably not a private airport," JJ said. "It has to have flights leaving a few times a day."

"That doesn't rule out aerial tours though," CSI Stokes pointed out. "Small planes flying out a few times a day."

CSI Grissom made his way over to the map on the wall. "There are a number of airports or airstrips in the Clark County area." He started to circle areas on the map and tally them. "I count fifteen, and that's just the ones off the top of my head."

"We can narrow it down," CSI Brown said, "by some of the descriptions Alex gave us. These two for example," he said crossing off two circles, "are air force bases. The land outside the parameter of the base is undeveloped desert and even if she lived on base it's unlikely she'd be able to get toddlers in unnoticed, and more unlikely she'd get one of them back out. These three," he continued marking, "are in area's hit heavily by drought last year."

"Which means no grass," CSI Willows added. "The county paid home owners in those areas to pull up their lawns and replace it with gravel."

"That brings us down to ten."

Just then Morgan's phone rang. He put it on speaker phone.

"Talk to me beautiful."

"Other than our first three victims, we have four other girls fitting the same criteria that have died in the last twelve months."

"Just four," I asked.

"Yep, and in those four we have a childhood leukemia, accidental death due to neglect, car accident and a house fire."

"Garcia, get us those names and the whereabouts of the mothers."

"Easy on the last two," she said amidst a barrage of typing, "Holly Towns, age three, died when her parent's car blew a tire and the father lost control. Mother, father, and child all died on scene. Abigail Bronson also age three died when her family home caught fire due to electrical problems. The entire family was killed in the fire."

"We'll need the other two then."

"On its way."

"You're the best Garcia," I said as the fax machine started humming announcing the arrival of Garcia's findings.

"Don't you ever forget it," she sighed before hanging up.

Hotch divided up the two files.

"Morgan, you, Prentiss and I will take CSIs Willows and Stokes to check out," he read the name, "Janice Michelson. Agent Rossi, you and JJ go with Grissom and Brown to interview Teresa Olson."

"What about me?" I questioned.

"You head back to the hospital and fill Greg and Annabelle in on our progress. At this point just knowing we're getting somewhere is good news."

(What do we think? Any comments? Do I have you sucked in yet? I've been looking at my stats…so I know people are reading this. Don't be shy…if you hate it you don't have to leave your name. Anyway…new chapter soon, I promise.)


	7. If We're Too Late

(A/N: Ok here we go with the new chapter. Sorry if you got sent a lot of update alerts. There was a problem with editing and it wouldn't fix. Anyway, still lacking on those reviews people. I see the stats…I know you're reading. Just review already. Still from Reid's POV…sorry I just love the man. Many, many thanks to my "mega mommy" beta Adreon (who most of you know as **gsandersfanatic** from my first two stories). Doing this while taking care of an infant blows my mind. You rock chick.

**Chapter 7: What If We're Too Late**

When I returned to the hospital Annabelle and Greg were still asleep with Alex sucking his thumb soundly between them. Not wanting to disrupt progress I decided to settle down in the waiting room. It was times like this that reading 20,000 words a minute seemed a disadvantage. I finished the book I'd packed and two more from the gift shop by the time Greg joined me in the waiting room.

"Anna told me you could do that," he remarked at me reading.

I closed the book. "Yeah, it creeps most people out. When we were little she joked that I was part robot. For almost a year she called me…"

"Spencertron 9000," he laughed. "She told me."

I blushed. "What can I say, we were twelve," I laughed. "So, how's she doing?"

"Better," he sighed. "She's been sort of distant. I've been getting worried. The case was really getting her down before. She wasn't sleeping well and she was always so tired. Then when the twins went missing she stopped sleeping all together. I thought she was going to lose it, and then she called you. You guys showed up and everything started to look up." He glanced at the door to the room where his wife and son slept. "I mean, if I had it my way this wouldn't have happened at all but," he breathed deep, "the hospital beats the morgue any day."

"How about now," I asked. "Has she gotten better since Alex was found?"

"Little by little, though she didn't sleep willingly. In the end she didn't have a choice, she gave in to exhaustion."

"I'm sure things will get better now," I said, "now that Alex is reaching out."

Greg smiled. "I can't tell you what it was to wake up with him between us. I don't even know if she's noticed yet. I don't know what you did," he placed his hand on my shoulder, "but I don't know how to thank you."

"It wasn't me," I shrugged. "It was Alex. He was bound to come around sooner or later."

"So, what brings you back? More flash cards with Alex? I can wake him if you want."

"No," I stopped him, "we've gotten a sufficient amount of information from Alex. I actually came to fill you in on our progress."

"Progress," he said in shock. "You guys work fast. What have you got?"

"Well, from what Alex told us, we're dealing with a female."

Greg was floored.

"A woman," he stammered, "a woman is doing this? A woman is killing these kids."

"It's hard for sane people to imagine how a person could do this sort of thing," I explained, "even harder for a parent."

He sighed. "What else?"

"He said that the woman told Caroline to call her 'mommy' and she called Caroline by another name, though he couldn't tell me what it was. He said she 'painted' Caroline's hair."

Greg's fists clinched as he closed his eyes in anger.

"Painted? You mean dyed. She dyed my little girl's hair."

"To make her look like the others most likely."

"But why?"

I hesitated. I didn't want it to sound like I was trying to buy the unsub sympathy. "We believe that the unsub lost a child, age three, blonde hair, blue eyes. We think she is looking for a replacement for her child. When these girls don't live up to her expectations," I paused, "she disposes of them and finds another."

"This doesn't look good for her then does it," he asked in fear. "The others were found two to three days after they went missing. She's coming up on her third day."

"There is hope," I said trying to sound as confidant as possible. "We compiled a list of children matching the description that died in the last year. My team and your co-workers are following up on them now."

"That's good news," he sighed in relief. "That's really good news."

"What's good news," Annabelle said sounding more rested and cheerful then I'd seen her so far.

"They've got leads," Greg said standing to hug her. "Real leads."

"Are you serious," said hugging him back. "Spencer that's so wonderful." She rushed to hug me. "I knew I could count on you. I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't thank me," I insisted. "I didn't do anything. It was all Alex; he's a very brave little boy."

"I can't believe this," she said obviously not interested in the details at the moment. "I just…"suddenly she turned pale and grabbed her stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said darting for the nearest bathroom.

"Was that Anna?" JJ said, walking up.

"Yeah," I said worried. "Would you mind going to check on her?"

"Sure," JJ said, going off in the direction Annabelle had run.

"This has really been getting to her," Greg said. "If things don't end soon I'm afraid she'll really make herself sick."

"I'm sure she's fine. All the stress of the situation and the excitement of finding Alex, it's a lot for her to handle."

After a couple minutes Annabelle returned with JJ close behind. Annabelle looked flushed and uneasy. I looked to JJ for an answer. She just shook her head and mouthed 'later'.

"Sorry about that," Annabelle said slightly embarrassed. "I guess finally eating a real meal then getting so much sleep got to me."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Greg asked.

"Yeah," she cleared her throat, "I'm fine." She looked to JJ. "Do you have news?"

JJ's expression fell. "More like lack of news."

Disappointment seemed to wash over them.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I wish I could tell you that our leads turned up something, but…"

"It's alright," Annabelle said solemnly. "If you'll excuse me I think need to check on Alex."

"Don't feel bad," Greg said after Annabelle had left. "You're trying. You've already gotten farther than we had. You'll find her." He looked at me. "I know you will."

He stood and went after his wife.

"I just feel so bad for them," JJ sighed.

"You feel bad," I ran my hands restlessly through my hair. "All I keep thinking is what if we're too late. What if we don't figure it out in time? I've raised their hopes so much. Not just Greg and Annabelle's, Alex's too. I told him that I would find his sister. What happens if I can't keep that promise?"

JJ put her hand on mine. "We just have to make sure we keep it. Besides, I'd hate to put Annabelle through anything else right now."

"Oh yeah," I said remembering her expression. "What's going on? She's alright, isn't she?"

"Reid," she said quietly clasping my hand. "I am swearing you to secrecy. If you utter one word of this to Greg I will kill you, and trust me, that would be a favor considering what Anna would do if she got to you first."

"I swear," I said seriously, "I won't say a word."

"Anna's pregnant."

"What? Really? When did she find out?"

JJ shushed me. "She found out the day before the twins were taken. She was planning on telling Greg that night but it just didn't seem right."

"He's going to figure it out sooner or later," I said knowingly. "Those close to you always seem to know."

She blushed slightly. "Be that as it may, that's her choice. She said I could tell you, but you are not to tell him. She'll tell him when she's ready."

"Alright," I said. "I promised I'd keep quiet and I will."

"Good."

"So," I said getting back to the situation at hand, "the leads didn't give us anything?"

"Unfortunately not," she groaned. "Janice Michelson, the mother of the girl with Leukemia seems very well adjusted considering. When she's not busy raising her other three children, she heads a charity for Leukemia awareness. She really seems to have turned her loss into an opportunity to help others."

"And the other mother?"

"Teresa Olson," she sighed, "not a happy ending like Mrs. Michelson, but an ending nonetheless. The 'death by negligence' charge came about because the girl, Katie, drowned in the bath tub. The mother put her in the tub for her bath then went to the bedroom to shoot up. By the time she remembered to check on Katie, she was already dead."

"And where is the mother now?"

"Died three months ago. She was in and out of treatment after Katie's death. On her last 'out' she overdosed in the same bathtub Katie died in."

I was numb. I had so hoped that this was the right direction.

Just then my cell phone beeped, alerting me to a new text message.

"Garcia thinks she's got something."

(Ta-da! Cliffhanger…maybe that will get your tongues wagging. Come one people…I'm giving you my best stuff here. I'm trying REALLY hard to impress you. Throw me a bone here. Anyway…there you have it…new chapter soon.)


	8. Clinging Tightly

(A/N: LOL…like that cliff hanger there huh? I figure if CSI and Criminal Minds can do it to me, I can do it to my readers. It wasn't so bad huh? I mean I'm writing as quickly as I can. Here goes chapter 8. Still Reid's POV. Adreon…thanks a million. You give me the motivation I need to keep this going. Your reviews are a ton of help.)

**Chapter 8: Clinging Tightly**

"What'd you find," I said between breaths, having sprinted the length of the hallway to the room where the others had convened.

"Calm yourself sparky," Garcia said from a large monitor on the wall. "We weren't going to start without you."

"Thanks," I said catching my breath. "What did you find?"

"Well, when my other leads turned up zilch I decided to look deeper. I said to myself, self what would set this crazy off if not a recent tragedy. So I started to look a little less recent."

We watched the screen as Garcia unleashed a stream of typing and small windows started to open as if like magic.

"I opened the time frame to 36 months before the first disappearance and got this."

The pop ups stopped and a couple dozen windows were opened on the screen.

"Can we narrow this down a little," Hotch asked.

"Way ahead of you boss man," she said with a few more clicks and taps of her key board. "I ruled out those whose mothers were deceased or otherwise engaged and cross referenced with those living in areas near airports or airstrips. That leaves us with…" one last click, "her."

The suspense in the room was almost tangible. We all held our breath as a young girl's picture filled the screen.

"Dixie Cross," Garcia said her voice more serious. "Two and a half years ago Dixie and her mother Marcy were in a head on collision with a drunk driver. Dixie died on the scene and Marcy was considered in critical conditions. They finally got her stable, but she was in a coma."

"How long?" Prentiss asked.

"Until a week before the first kidnapping."

"She was in a coma for two and a half years?" Morgan gawked. "I didn't think they would keep you on life support that long."

"She wasn't on life support," Garcia corrected. "She was breathing on her own, had signs of normal brain activity, and with no family to make the decision they hospital couldn't take action."

"They're hit by a drunk driver," CSI Stokes says, "she's out for two and a half years and then what? She wakes up and they just send her home."

"According to her file she was undergoing grief counseling for the loss of her daughter but was deemed 'reasonably adjusted'."

"Reasonably adjusted," Grissom said, "five kidnappings and three murders doesn't sound like reasonable adjustment."

"My thoughts exactly," Garcia said.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here; we don't have any proof that Marcy Cross is the woman we're looking for."

Garcia cleared her throat.

"Not only does Marcy live a stones throw from Boulder City Municipal Airport, recent credit card purchases include a box of blonde hair dye, bought two hours after the twins were kidnapped."

"We need that address."

The wait seemed endless as we made the more than 25 mile drive to Boulder City. It was nearly half an hour of silence except for the wail of police sirens that surrounded us. Staring out across the landscape time seemed to catch up. The sun had been rising when our plane landed in Vegas and had set hours ago. The hours ran together in my sleeplessness and the day that we'd been there seemed like ages and moments at the same time.

As we neared our destination the sirens died and the flashing lights were extinguished. The motorcade came to a stop at the edge of the neighborhood and we all gathered for instructions.

"Okay," Hotch said taking charge. "Local PD has eyes on the house. They've spotted Caroline in the bedroom around the back of the house, but the unsub keeps moving from room to room. She appears to be agitated."

"Remember that the others were kept for two to three days," I said putting on my vest. "Day three for Caroline starts in a few hours. We need to get her out safely before the unsub does something reckless."

Captain Brass of the LVPD took over. "We'll divide up into three teams. Team one will hold the parameter. Marcy Cross is not to exit that house unaccompanied. Team two will be joined by Nick and Warrick. You will enter through the front of the house and intersect the suspect. Team three will accompany SSA's Reid and Prentiss. When the signal is given you will enter the house through the bedroom window secure the child. Understand? Alright, let's roll."

As the other teams took their positions Prentiss and I took our contingent of officers around the back of the house to the bedroom window.

Peaking inside, I saw Caroline sitting in the closet door twirling her newly dyed hair around her tiny finger.

"What's the location of the unsub?" I called over the radio.

"Be advised she in the kitchen," a voice answered.

"I'm initiating contact with Caroline. We don't want her scared when we rush in."

"Go ahead Reid," Hotch said, "just do it quietly."

I tapped softly on the window. Caroline's gaze snapped in my direction.

I could see she was already scared.

"Someone give me a boost."

"What?" one of the officers asked.

"I need to sign to her," I said. "She has to be able to see my hands clearly. Give me a boost."

The officer went down on one knee allowing me to step up on the ledge his other knee created.

When Caroline could clearly see me, I made the letter 'C' with my right hand and held it over my heart.

She blinked in confusion.

In quick choppy sentences, I signed that Alex had sent me to help. 'Loud noise' I signed, 'not afraid'.

She signed back 'okay' and covered her ears.

"Caroline's ready."

Just then there was loud commotion. Even prepared Caroline jumped.

Shouts filled the night air as the CSIs Stokes and Brown lead the team into the kitchen.

"On the ground," Stokes yelled. "On the ground now."

"What are you doing here? I didn't do anything," the woman cried. "Why are you in my house?"

"On the ground, ma'am and you won't get hurt."

"They've got her distracted," Hotch said. "Move, move."

One of the officers pried open the window.

"Come here Caroline," I whispered. "Run."

She shook her said, tears streaming down her face as she lifted her left wrist. Around her tiny wrist was a plastic zip tie pulled tight enough to stay in place. Running from her wrist to the bed was a length of rope.

"She's tied up," I said, pulling myself up through the open window. "I need a knife," I said once I was inside. "Give me a knife."

The nearest officer reached to his belt and handed me a large knife.

As I crept across the room the shouting continued outside.

"I have to go to my daughter." She screamed. "You're scaring her. Let me go to my daughter."

"That's not your daughter Marcy."

"What do you mean she's not my daughter? Get out of my house and leave us alone."

I reached Caroline and started to saw away at the rope.

"Not another step Marcy." CSI Brown warned. "Down on the ground, NOW!"

"Dixie!" She screamed.

Scooping Caroline up, I ran for the window, but the door flew open before I could get her out.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing with my baby?"

"She's not Dixie." I said. "She's not your daughter. Dixie is dead, Marcy."

"You're lying," she shouted. "You're just trying to take her from me. Give me my daughter back. Come here Dixie. Come to Mommy, sweetie."

She threw open her arms as if she actually expected Caroline to reach for her.

Caroline simply tightened her hold on me.

"It's true Marcy," CSI Stokes said, "Dixie died two and a half years ago. I'm sorry but that is not your daughter."

"Liars," she whispered through her sobs. "LIARS!!" She jumped for the knife I'd left by the bed.

I shielded Caroline as three shots rang out.

When it was over, CSI Stokes stood shaking over Marcy Cross' motionless body.

Moments later I carried Caroline out of the house. Grissom met me as I reached the waiting ambulance.

"Is she ok?" he said sounding more like a worried family member than an investigator.

"She's fine," I said, Caroline still clinging tightly too me. "She's scared but she doesn't look hurt."

"Go with her in the ambulance. I'll call ahead and let Anna and Greg know you're coming."

As the doors of the ambulance shut behind us the paramedics tried to take Caroline.

She cried in protest.

"I'll just hold her," I said, sensing she wasn't willing to let go just yet.

After some persuading they agreed and secured a safety belt around us both.

A few moments later I looked down to find Caroline fast asleep twirling her fingers in my hair.

(Not quite done yet, but we're getting there and at least Caroline is safe now. Sorry about the mushiness of that last line. I just think that's the cutest thing ever. Review please…you're running out of chances here.)


	9. We're Listening

(A/N: So? What did we think of the last chapter? Come one guys….I'm really trying here. SAY SOMETHING!! Anyway…here goes chapter 9. We'll be wrapping up soon, as my stories are pretty consistent at 8 to 10 chapters. This is from Anna's POV…I figure this is a good time to get back inside her head. Adreon….again you're the bomb. Thanks for this girl. Enjoy.)

**Chapter 9: We're Listening**

Greg and I stood anxiously in the ambulance bay waiting for the telltale sirens. Alex wrapped his arms tightly around Greg's neck, eyes fixed on the entrance for some sign of his sister.

When I heard it, my heart stopped. I wondered if I should allow myself to hope. Is this them? Is she really okay?

Grissom had said that she was, but he could have just been sugarcoating it for my sake.

The approaching ambulance came to a stop and the doors flew open. Through tear filled eyes I saw Spencer duck through the doorway and step down cradling Caroline.

Words escaped me. For the first time in my life I could not speak. I simply held out my arms, praying she'd reach for me.

"Mommy," she cried and jumped into my arms.

Sinking to the ground I hugged her, drinking in every moment, holding her as if she were a dream that might suddenly drift away if I dared to let go. Before I knew it Greg was beside me, crying as his free arm embraced me and Caroline. I kissed him as tears of joy washed down both our faces.

"Don't cry Mommy." I heard Alex say. "Caroline's here. We can go home now."

Smiling uncontrollably I wrapped my other arm around Alex.

"Mrs. Sanders," one of the paramedics said. "We need to get Caroline inside. The doctors have to check her out."

"Okay," I said standing up balancing a twin on each side.

"Anna," Greg said. "Let me take one of them."

"I've got them."

"You really don't need to be lifting both of them at once."

"I've done it a thousand times," I said wondering why he picked now to have this conversation.

"But in your condition…"

My jaw dropped. I looked to Spencer.

"You told?"

"No," he insisted, "I swear. I didn't say anything."

"No one told me," Greg said taking Alex. "I think I know my own wife well enough to see when something's different. I may not be a profiler but I'm not blind either. What I don't know is why you didn't tell me."

I looked around seeing the uncomfortable look on the faces of those around us and the confusion of our children.

"Can we talk about this later," I said, "alone."

Almost an hour later the doctors had checked Caroline out. They said everything was fine but that they still wanted to keep her over night, just in case.

Before we knew it the kids were asleep, snuggled next to each other.

"Can we talk about it now?" Greg asked.

"Yes," I sighed, "calmly and quietly."

"Okay," he said. "So, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't know until the day before the twins were taken. I was going to surprise you. Then everything fell apart. There was never a good time."

"I understand," he said taking my hand. "I was just worried about you. You were so upset, I was afraid about the extra stress on you and the baby."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I," he said. "We're not good a secrets, you know that. We're miserable when we can't figure things out together."

"Okay," I said leaning my head on his shoulder. "No more secrets."

The next day we were home and Alex and Caroline were acting as if nothing had happened.

I watched in amazement as they sat in the living room floor talking in a flurry of signs. Beside them was Spencer, signing more slowly, but looking as though he was keeping up with the conversation.

The rest of his team had, understandably, flown back to Quantico. There were other cases to solve, other families to reunite. Agent Hotchner had given Spencer permission to stay behind for an extra day to say goodbye to the kids, but the real reason for his continued presence was revealed after his conversation with the twins.

"They want to tell you everything that happened," he said, "but it's hard for them. They asked if I would do it."

"We're listening," Greg said.

"You might want to get comfortable, this could take a while."

As we settled back on the sofa, the kids crawled up in our laps.

For the next half hour Spencer walked us step by step through their ordeal.

They had been playing in the sand box when a woman came up to them. She only talked to Caroline and tried to convince her to come away without Alex. When she said no the woman got angry. Alex called for Becky, but she was on her cell phone. The woman grabbed Caroline and was pulling her away. Alex held on to her, so the woman picked both of them up and took them to a car. They drove for a long time and she told them to stay under a blanket in the back seat. When they got to the house she carried them inside wrapped in the blanket.

She locked Alex in the closet only opening the door to give him scrapes of food. They signed to each other through the slates in the door, keeping each other calm.

On the first night the woman died Caroline's hair and was calling her a different name. She told her to call her mommy. That night while they were asleep she took Alex. He didn't remember what happened. All he remembered was a car, and then he was on the ground, then in a hospital.

When Caroline woke up that morning and couldn't find Alex she tried to run away but the woman caught her. That's when she tied her to the bed. She never left the room after that. The woman would come in a feed her, play with her hair, try to talk to her, but Caroline would just sit there. When the woman left she would cry, but never in front of her.

"Before we came," Spencer said, "Caroline says the woman started getting mad. She said she'd gotten the bad baby again. She told Caroline that she was going to give her some medicine to go to sleep and that when she woke up she'd be back with her brother."

My voice creaked through the lump in my throat. "She was getting ready to kill her?"

Spencer nodded.

Tears flowed down my cheeks.

"Does she know?" Greg asked. "I mean, do they understand what she wanted to do?"

Spencer nodded again.

"Oh Sweetheart," I cried hugging her tightly.

It had never occurred to me that they would actually understand what had happened or worse, what could have happened.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I should have been there to protect you."

"Honey, don't," Greg started.

I started to cry, but suddenly small arms wrapped around me.

"It's okay Mommy," Caroline said. "You found me."

Leave it to a child to simplify the world so beautifully.

She was lost and we found her. That was all that mattered now.

(One more chapter left people. You know me…I like neat little packages.)


	10. Seven Months Later

(A/N: So here we have it…the last chapter. I've gotten a couple more reviews, and I thank you all for reading. I won't say that I write for reviews, I write because I love it and it gives me a joy like nothing else. I do, however, value reviews. Reviews keep me motivated. It is the help of my friends and the reviews of my readers that moved this story at the pace it kept. I hope that you enjoy this last chapter. Reid's POV.)

**Chapter 10: Seven Months Later**

I drove the familiar streets remarking how different things felt this time. The memory of my last visit was still fresh, but the joy and excitement I felt was quickly erasing that.

It was five days before that Greg had called and asked if I could come and after minimal begging and schedule manipulation I'd managed to free up and entire weekend.

As I pulled up to the house I couldn't help but think of the people that lived inside and how close they had come to tragedy. Pushing those thoughts aside, I made my way up the sidewalk.

Moments after ringing the door bell, I heard a rumble of little feet approaching.

"SPENCER!" The twins squealed nearly tackling me to the ground.

"Hey, guys," I laughed trying to keep my balance as the now four year olds tugged at my arms. "Gosh you've gotten so big."

"Alex, Caroline," Greg called coming to the door, "at least let him get in the house before you attack him." The kids let go and Greg opened his arms to hug me. "How have you been Spencer?"

"Good," I said. "Works been, well work."

"I know the feeling," Greg laughed. "Come in, Anna's in the living room."

"Spencer," Caroline said tugging at me again. "Mommy had a new baby."

"A new baby," I said playing into her excitement. "Really? That's so cool. Was it a brother or a sister?"

"It was a brother," Alex interrupted. "Come on, come see the new baby."

They pulled me towards the living room where Annabelle sat holding her sleeping son.

She smiled softly and motioned for me to come and sit next to her.

"Look Spencer, look!" Caroline exclaimed climbing up in my lap. "I told you Mommy had a baby."

"I see," I said. "Mommy had a very pretty baby. Don't you think your new little brother is pretty?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He's pretty 'cause he looks like us."

She twirled her now short, but once again red, hair and pointed to the baby.

"See, he has red hair just like us. Daddy says red hair is the prettiest."

"Your daddy is right." I remarked. "Red hair is very pretty."

"Alex," Greg said on the other side of Annabelle, "why don't you tell Spencer what your little brother's name is."

Alex suddenly blushed and hid is face in his father's shoulder.

"Come on," Greg prompted, "tell him."

Alex shook his head.

"When we found out that we were having a boy we asked the kids what they thought we should name their little brother and Alex here came up with the perfect name."

I looked at Alex who was still a little pink.

"What name did you come up with?"

Alex made a sign he'd not taught me seven months ago. He touched his forehead with his index finger and then brought his hand down closing his fist in what I knew to be the letter 'S'.

"What does that sign mean?" I questioned.

"Spencer," he said bashfully.

I was awestruck. For the first time in my life I was at a loss for words.

"Alex says that you're the reason we're still a family," Caroline said. "He says that you helped Mommy and Daddy find me, so we had to name the new baby Spencer."

"Thank you," I said a little chocked up. "I'm very happy that you wanted to name your brother after me." I looked down to the tiny red head in Annabelle's arms. "Hello there, little Spencer. My name is Spencer too."

The next two days flew by far too fast. The kids kept my days busy teaching me new signs they'd developed while I'd been gone and showing me all of the cool things they'd gotten for their birthday the month before.

At night Greg, Annabelle, and I sat and talked, catching up on things that had seemed too trivial to discuss seven months ago. I was amazed at how quickly Greg and I had become friends. I completely understood how he and Annabelle were so great together. It was in these late night talks, after the children were asleep, that Annabelle told me about a decision she and Greg had come to.

"I'm not going back to work." She said without a single ounce of regret. "Not for a little while anyway."

"Why?" I asked thought I felt as if I knew the answer.

"You've probably noticed the absence of a certain nanny," Greg said.

"I have."

"We let Becky go right after the twins were found." He said. "After what Alex told us there was just no way we could keep her."

"After everything we've been through, after what the twins have been through, I just can't put my kids' safety in the hands of someone else."

"So we decided that Anna would take a break from work until the kids are all in school."

"How did they take it at the lab?"

"They said that there would always be a job waiting for me when I was ready to come back."

Two days later the children bid me a tearful goodbye and made me promise that I would come back to visit soon.

"You have to come back soon Spencer so you don't forget us."

"I won't forget you," I promised, "and I'll be back real soon."

As the plane took off for Virginia I stared out the window at the lights of Vegas fading away below us.

"Did you have a fun time in Las Vegas?" an elderly woman sitting next to me asked.

"Yeah," I said smiling, "Yeah, I did."

"Did you come for vacation?"

"No," I said with a sigh, "I came to visit family."

(I hope you liked it. Sorry if the ending is cheesy. Look for new stories soon hopefully, probably just a Spencer story this time…I really like writing him.)


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